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Jun 2012
Echoes lost, each ripple straight from the core.
Drawn for clarity, crooked fingers write sincerity.
I can't hold me inside me, what about you?
It pours through my pores, shaking me apart into light, rotation.
Differences converge.
Collapses into skin, bones, capillaries.
Dirt, rocks, trees.
Darkin
Written by
Darkin  California
(California)   
669
   Lotus
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